Literature
Glimmers
The agony lives, a silent whisper in the hollows of cold, familiar places, Living like words etched, indelible, upon a tombstone's unforgiving face. In our all worn out, dying visages, Time's relentless march eternally traced. Outside, the moonlight weaves its silver threads, casting an eerie spell, a ghostly glow, upon the green grass, over blackened hills, a world bathed in its otherworldly embrace. My time is near, the end beckons, it flutters like wings of a bat, erratic and swift, singing in my ear, a requiem soft and low, a symphony of shadows, in the dark adrift. Deliriums have chilled, tendrils of frost, and distracted me from the warmth, From all the hope others found in dreams, a solace I seek yet seems so far away. I stand alone, an island amidst a stormy sea, With neither fear nor courage served, no armor against fate's capricious decree. End of the endless night approaches, Lost and trembling in torment and despair, a soul adrift on the tides of uncertainty, seeking